


Soft

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chubby Dean Winchester, M/M, Mpreg, Trying To Conceive, Weight Gain, chubby chaser Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 03:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16210118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Originally written for the kink meme years ago.Omega!Dean and his alpha Sam are trying to get Dean pregnant. Everyone knows the best way to ensure a nice, fertile omega is to keep him well-fed and pleasantly plump. His alpha loves to rub Dean's cute, chubby belly while he's knotted deep inside, and is there anything better than the way Dean's muffintop jiggles while he's getting fucked?I just wanted to see Dean lavished with attention and stuffed full of come and pie. :)





	Soft

"Just looking at you, I'd say you need to gain at least twenty pounds," the doctor said. She was a petite thing and if her weight tipped over to the three digits, Dean would have been shocked. 

"Say what?" Dean said. He was in about his least favorite position in the universe, up on the doctor's table, getting his Omega parts examined, feet in stirrups, butt scooted to the edge of the table. The only way this would have been any more uncomfortable was if the doctor actually had the speculum inside him at the time. Thankfully she'd just removed that frigid metal object from his parts. The fact that Sam, his Alpha and his brother, was in the room, standing at his shoulder, didn't make it any more comfortable.

"You're a very athletic man, very lean. I'd guesstimate you've got in the vicinity of thirteen to fourteen percent body fat. You're very muscular. I'm guess you have a very active job or you play sports pretty intensely."

"Dean's very active in martial arts," Sam said, and that wasn't exactly a lie. Or rather it hadn't been once. They were retired now. They'd given enough, done enough. Dean couldn't help but keep up his conditioning though. It was second nature. And his year prior, the dark year he didn't like to think too much on, had left his body very depleted of a lot of things. He'd been like a skeleton practically by the time that was over. He'd worked hard to get his muscle back since then. 

"Well, that's great. He's in great condition for that, but not for what you've told me is your current goal."

They were here, at the androcologist's office, last on the list of Dean's least favorite places ever, which included both Hell and Purgatory, because they were trying to find out why Dean hadn't conceived in a year of trying, a year since he'd taken his last suppressant. They'd gone through four heats together and hadn't conceived. Given the hyperfertility of Alpha's and Omegas, that was pretty much unheard of. 

"So you're saying Dean is in too good of shape to conceive?" Sam asked. "It's really difficult for him to gain weight. He eats like a garbage disposal already."

"I'm right here, Sam," Dean said. He knew his Alpha meant well, but like too many Alphas, he had a tendency to speak for his Omega, even if he was mostly a liberal, modern Alpha. Dean sighed. He almost couldn't imagine where he'd put twenty pounds, much less how he'd put it on. Sam was right on that. Dean ate pretty much whatever he wanted, and how much he wanted and still stayed lean. Just good genes, he supposed. Except if the doctor was right and he was too skinny to get knocked up. He wanted that baby, more than anything. And Sam wanted it more and he'd still do anything for Sam.

"I dunno if I can put that much on. Sam's right. I eat like a horse already. I can try. What's the minimum I can gain and have this work?"

"I don't want to speak in absolutes. There's no minimum amount you have to gain before you can conceive, but up to a point, every little bit of weight you can put on will help your chances of conception immensely." 

"So, carte blanche to eat whatever the hell I want?" Dean asked.

The doctor frowned, "Of course not. I'll have the front desk give you a diet program designed for maximum nutrition combined with a high calorie intake. Sort of a best chance to conceive diet."

They got out of there not long after with pages of photocopies and a prescription for pre-natal vitamins he should be taking just in case. Dean got behind the wheel of his Baby. His first baby that was. He promised himself that there'd be a passel of human babies some day. Sam settled into shot gun and started riffling through the pages they'd been given as Dean headed for home.

"Should have known," Sam said as he read. "It's what everyone says, you know. The best way to ensure a fertile Omega is to keep him well fed and pleasantly plump."

"That's just an old wives tale," Dean said. "An excuse for being tubby."

Dean had always taken pride in the fact that he wasn't like all those other Omegas, especially about the fact that he was as muscular and lean as any Alpha around, excepting maybe Sam. 

"She's not an old wife, Dean, and if she says you need to gain weight before you can get pregnant, I'm sure she's right. This doctor is the best in the midwest, according to my research. If she can't get you pregnant, I doubt anyone could."

"I thought that was your job," Dean said. "Getting me knocked up."

"My swimmers are fine," Sam said. "First test they ran, remember? Because it's non-invasive."

Dean remembered thinking it wasn't fair that they hadn't allowed him in the room with Sam when he was producing their sample for testing. Sam was right. Considering all they'd been through, it might have been a miracle almost, but Sam's sperm was in fine condition- high count, good motility, everything. This infertility was all on him. This was Dean's fault. 

"So," he said. "Twenty pounds. You think we can do it?" 

"I think we can do anything we set our minds to. We've done the impossible. This is just going to be a little difficult. So, stop for lunch?"

"It's three in the afternoon. We already had lunch," Dean said, even as he scanned the road ahead for any likely places. 

"Okay. I'll have coffee. You'll have lunch number two."

***

Just to seem like he was ordering food and keep Dean proper company, Sam ordered pie along with his coffee. Pecan, Dean's favorite. Mostly Sam shoved the same two bites around on the plate with Dean ate a cheeseburger and fries. Double cheeseburger, everything, heavy on the onions, just like he always ordered. 

The diner was just like every place they used to stop at ever, back in the day. Not such a common place for them now. But there were the same vinyl booths Sam was used to, the ones that made him feel crowded in. There was the counter with the stools that almost no one ever sat at. Hell, there were even the breakfast specials posted on the wall in blue and red, including, for God's sake, Pig in a Poke. The vinyl was faded pink and aqua, but yeah, like every diner they used to go to. 

Even so, Sam felt relaxed, at his ease. There was something he loved about seeing his Omega eat. It was an Alpha's duty, to take care of his Omega, see that he was nurtured, well-fed. Sam might have spent years falling down in that duty, letting Dean be the one who took care of him. Sam was starting to make up for it now though. 

As Dean plowed through his french fries, he was flipping through the diet that the doctor had given them. 

"Almond butter?! Yogurt? Avocado?" Dean said, sounding disgusted. "This is all that health food crap that you eat. How is rabbit food going to help?"

"You eat avocado all the time. Guacamole is pretty much mashed up avocado with stuff for flavor."

Dean had been known to hoover down a whole big bowl of guacamole by himself, along with nearly a full bag of tortilla chips. He could be kind of a terror at Mexican restaurants. Got to keep you from the worst of it, Sammy, he'd say, hogging the guac to himself again. You know this stuff makes you toxic. 

"Oh," Dean said. 

From what Sam had seen of the pages, it was pretty much the same diet you'd eat to build muscle, just with more high-calorie, quality fats added, so yeah, it was pretty much a lot like what Sam tried to eat on a day to day basis. Unlike Dean, Sam picked up a pound here, a pound there easily. In their traveling days it was hard to keep off the weight and stay at his fighting weight, which his why he'd resorted to salads so much. Nowadays, it was easier. They had their own kitchen and Sam had control over what he ate. 

"Nobody's going to make you eat yogurt if you don't want to," Sam said. "Think of the diet as more of a suggestion. I'm pretty sure we can work some pie into it."

Then, seeing as Dean was mostly done with the fries, Sam cut off a big piece of the pecan pie with his fork and lofted it across the table, stopping right in front of Dean's mouth. Dean opened his mouth and Sam delicately fed him the bit of pie. It was just a subtle thing at first. He didn't even realize he was turned on by this until his pants seemed a bit tight. Interesting that feeding up his Omega was getting him hard. 

When the pie had completely disappeared inside of Dean, along a second piece and the last of the fries, Dean leaned back in the booth and groaned happily. He popped the waistband button of his jeans and leaned back. His stomach seemed rounded. Dean was so lean that a fully loaded stomach showed on him. 

Sam suddenly thought of their worst days, and how during the days just after, how skinny Dean had been. He must have not eaten at all during his demonic days, because the Dean he'd gotten back after curing him had been positively skeletal. The stomach that was every so slightly rounded now had been concave, a hollow between the scaffolding of his hips and the overhang of his ribs. Dean still hadn't fully bounced back from that. 

Now though, the bloat from his large meal, the third of the day so far, made Sam think of pregnant bellies and happier times. He couldn't help staring. Dean sniffed the air. 

"You're turned on," he accused. "Not pregnant yet, Sammy. Just a food baby. Knew you were like all the other Alphas. Can't wait to have me barefoot and pregnant."

"Did I see a motel about a mile back?" Sam said, not refuting Dean's accusation. 

"Never thought you were a chubby chaser."

Sam hurried them out of there, dropping two twenties on the table, more than a enough for Dean's large meal and an overly generous tip. He escorted Dean out of the diner, led him to the car. 

"Getting all tingly here, Sam," Dean said. "You know how it gets me when you take charge like this."

"Dean," Sam said, pushing Dean against the side of the car and trapping him, one hand on either side of Dean's shoulders. "Shut up."

Then he shut him up. Lips to lips, Sam demanded and got a Dean that melted against him, acquiesced to Sam's invading tongue. Once Dean had stilled, Sam cradled his face tenderly, brushing Dean's cheekbones with his thumbs, weaving his fingers into Dean's soft, spiky hair, feeling the warmth at the back of his neck, the too prominent valleys between neck tendons. It was all suddenly overwhelming to Sam. This, all of this, was his, entrusted to him by Dean, the man who'd dared ask favors from Death himself and who'd crawled his way back from being a Knight of Hell on bloody fingertips and willpower alone. 

Dean met his eyes and Sam stared into those warm, green pools for a moment. "You okay?" Dean asked. 

"Yeah," Sam said, his voice unexpectedly husky. He suspected he was about half a second away from getting told he was a girl. He didn't care. "Just love you so damn much. I have to show you. Now. Can't wait until we get home."

Of course, once they'd found the motel and checked into a room, things didn't run as smoothly as Sam would have liked. Discomfort from stuffing himself caught up with Dean and he groaned with a belly ache as Sam launched himself on top of Dean, just caught up in the urge to cover him with kisses.

"Easy. Down boy! Gonna explode here and you're throwin' yourself on the grenade ain't gonna help the situation," Dean protested. Sam rolled off, his body instantly feeling the loss of Dean's warm limbs under him. 

"I'll rub your belly until it feels better and you should take a nap when I'm done," Sam offered, an apology for not thinking about how full Dean must feel. 

"I'm not taking a nap, Sammy," Dean said. "I'm not a toddler or something."

"You absolutely should take a nap. It's a proven technique for weight gain, to sleep after a big meal. Sumo wrestlers use it to put on weight," Sam said, thinking back to some random documentary he'd half watched in the middle of the night once. Cable TV in random hotel rooms made for a very broad and eclectic trivia knowledge base. 

"I'm not trying to get to four hundred pounds here."

"No one's saying you are, but you spent your life eating your way through just about every diner, drive in and roadside barbecue shack we could find and you're still way too skinny. You're going to need every bit of help you can get. And you slept what? Four hours last night? We agreed you're going to have to take care of yourself now that we're trying to have a baby. Let me take care of you."

It didn't take much more convincing. Dean pulled his jeans, boots and most of his clothes off, then laid back down wearing just his boxers. Sam just laid his hand gently on Dean's belly and started rubbing, in circular motions and in five minutes, Dean was sacked out, breathing deep, still in a way he never was when he was awake. Sam let him rest and took the opportunity to get their stuff from the Impala. That done, he settled down with his laptop to research ways he could get Dean to gain some weight safely, find things he'd like to eat that would be good for him and put some much needed reserves onto his Omega's frame. Because he knew his Omega in ways that the doctor never could and the diet they'd been given would be met with resistance, suspicion and outright aversion.

He started to think of it as a kind of homework assignment. Because when they'd retired and they'd gotten jobs, real jobs, Sam had remembered how much he'd enjoyed their brief time at the health spa and become a personal trainer. It hadn't been hard to find a small gym that hired him on the shape of his body alone, but since then he'd started to get the qualifications he needed- certifications in yoga and Pilates, and he'd even started on a college degree in exercise science and nutrition. What Dean would be trying to do would be the exact opposite of what his clients normally wanted, but it would be an interesting endeavor. By the time Dean woke up, Sam had a battle plan starting to shape up.

Still half asleep, Dean stumbled into the bathroom, used it, then the faucet started and Sam could hear Dean washing up, gargling and generally freshening up. So, he was definitely feeling better and maybe ready for the thing that Sam had gotten this room for. When he was done, Dean opened the bathroom door, leaned against the door frame and smiled. 

"So, you were planning on showing me just how much you love me?" he asked. 

Sam abandoned his computer and his studies and was across the room before Dean could get in another quip. He pulled Dean into his arms and cradled his face in his hands. Dean's cheekbones were so sharp, Sam thought. The line of his jaw so hard. His abs were so flat and smooth, a perfect six pack lining them. They needed to change that. 

Sam laid his lips on Dean's and tried to say everything about what Dean meant to him without uttering a word. 

Dean pushed him back after a moment and said, "Easy, Tiger. Plenty of me to go around. What say we take this horizontal?"

"Bed?" Sam asked, already sex stupid, achingly hard and yearning for more.

"Yahtzee," Dean said, taking him by the hand and leading him to the bed nearest the window and for a minute, Sam let himself be led by his Omega. The edge of the mattress caught him in the back of his calves and it was like he woke up. He wrapped his arms around Dean's hips, hands delving into the boxers which had to disappear now. He was still deciding if it would be easier to tear them off or just dissolve the molecules by sheer force of will when Dean slipped them down. Sam buried his face into the side of Dean's neck and sniffed deeply, scenting the deep, lovely odor of his mate, his Omega. Dean's earlier meal lingered a little, the extra onions mostly, which as much as Sam teased him about, he didn't mind, because it was part of Dean. But there was also sweetness like the pie and just Dean. He smelled home and love. The animal part of his brain deep down started jammering, "Mine! Mate!"

He pulled Dean tight to him and started rutting his cock against Dean's bare leg, then pushed and fell until they landed on the bed in a big tumble of limbs and mouths reaching for each other. Sam wedged himself between Dean's legs and Dean parted them allowing Sam in between. Sam thrust against Dean's hips, feeling Dean's cock grow hard 

"Want you to fuck my pussy," Dean said after a while, hiding his face against Sam's chest. 

"Hell!" Sam breathed, suddenly, if possible, even harder, His cock was twitching. Dean, mostly, only would let Sam in there when it was a heat, something about how it felt better in his ass, but Sam also suspected that it made Dean feel like less of a man to be fucked that way. Sam didn't care. He wasn't one of those kind of Alphas. Hell, he even let Dean fuck him on the regular. But there was something about the way Dean said it, so full of need.

Sam reached between Dean's legs and found everything there was slick like it only ever was when Dean was in heat. He sat back and knelt between Dean's legs, then bent down and took Dean's cock into his mouth, getting strangled yelp from Dean in response, surprised at the sudden pleasure, then hands on his head, urging him deeper. Dean tried to thrust up into Sam's mouth, but Sam pressed Dean's hips back down to the mattress, then spanked Dean on the side of his ass, once and not hard, but an obvious communication to hold still and let Sam take charge. 

Sam lifted Dean's balls out of the way and sought out Dean's pussy with a finger, sliding it into the folds he found underneath, until something gave way and Sam's index finger was surrounded by flesh, wet. Oh, Dean was tight. Sam sought and found the spongy texture of Dean's "O spot". He soon had Dean keening, hips thrashing, despite Sam's other hand still firmly keeping a grip on the too prominent crest of his hip.

Once Dean had spurted his seed across his belly, pearl drops of white, only then did Sam hoist Dean's legs up over his shoulders and press himself into the heavenly grip of his Omega's body, treasuring the trusting, open eyed gaze he shared with Dean as his cock sunk in and was surrounded. 

"Oh, God," Dean said. "So good. Oh."

A moment later it must have gotten to be too much for him, because he turned his head and closed his eyes, but he still moved in concert with Sam, thrusting up to meet Sam. It was Sam's cue to let loose. He hammered himself in again and again, tearing after his own orgasm. It was all consuming, this. The world disappeared, contracted, shrank until it was just Dean and him, nothing else existing. It was familiar, something they had done so many, many times that it was like second nature to him. It was something strange, like he couldn't remember any other time quite like this, especially the way that Dean just let himself go, taking everything that Sam had to give. 

Dean murmured something Sam didn't quite hear, but thought he recognized the word love, so he said, "What was that? Say it again. Louder. I need to hear it."

"I love you, damn it," Dean said. He screwed up his face for a second, then turned it to face Sam dead on, opening his eyes, those amazing green eyes, the ones that reminded him of a cartoon princess, though Sam would never, not in a million years, say that to Dean. 

"I love you!" 

That was the moment that the beast seemed to unleash in Sam. He growled and felt everything contract to an impossible single point. He felt the flood of pleasure flash through his body; everything seemed to white out. He could feel himself get harder, then his knot grew. At the same time, Dean's eyes never shut, but he cried out in surprise, coming again. Sam felt Dean's pussy clamp down on him and his knot, tying them together as Sam felt his come bursting out of him, like a dam breaking, like he hadn't come in months, instead of just yesterday. 

Sam groaned and let himself collapse onto Dean's strong, lean body. He imagined what it would be like to do this when Dean had some cushion, not just these bony, hard limbs. He moaned at the thought and spurted again, filling his Omega with even more come. These aftershocks would continue at intervals for up to fifteen, twenty minutes. 

When he could speak again, he said, "Sorry. I didn't mean to tie us. I was going to pull out. You're just too amazing. I couldn't."

"'s okay, Sammy," he said, but he squirmed a little. "Maybe could we shift a little? It's like having a freakin' redwood fall on me.

So Sam rolled them over until he was one on his back and Dean was on top of him. Dean acquiesced with good graces to the cuddling this time, even though normally he hated unless it was one of his heats. Sam pulled Dean close and buried his face in Dean's scent, taking in the smells that meant everything to him, that made him feel he was home, he was safe. 

"Wish we were doing it now, making our baby," Dean said after a while. "Wish it were just as easy as it should be."

"Hey, we'll get there. I promise," Sam said and he held Dean tight, like the precious, beloved partner that he was, until they fell asleep together, still joined fast together. He might be the one who had Dean in his arms, but it was Dean that truly held them together, by the tightly gripping PC muscles and internal erectile tissue, specially developed in Omegas, to grab onto a knot and not let it go. But also just because it was Dean who'd always held them together. Maybe he hadn't always understood the depth of Dean's love, hadn't wanted it, but these days, Sam just gripped back as best he could and loved Dean as much as he could.

 

***

 

Dean woke up alone in a strange bed, feeling momentarily disoriented, not remembering why he'd been asleep in a motel room instead of the bed he normally shared with his Alpha, back home. For a moment, he thought he was back on the road, that the last year of safety, stability and home had just been an illusion. 

Then he remembered. They'd gone to Omaha, to the androcologist- the fertility specialist. They'd gotten a room because Sam hadn't wanted to wait until they were home to jump his bones. It had been half a day of embarrassing and invasive tests only to get the diagnosis that he was just too damn skinny to get knocked up. He'd been told that yes, there would be IVF and hormone treatments and so forth, but why didn't he just try gaining about twenty or so pounds first, and if that didn't work, they could call out the big guns. 

Dean got out of bed and caught sight of the note on top of Sam's lap top- 'Gone to get us some dinner.' 

He remembered how Sam had pretty much insisted on Dean eating not just a second lunch, but a big second lunch, with two deserts. He groaned because honestly, he wasn't feeling that hungry yet at all, despite it being about four hours since that second lunch and despite how they'd worked it off afterwards. Dean smiled about that and headed into the shower. He'd feel better, he thought, after a shower. Right now, he was feeling decidedly sticky in places. 

By the time Dean was dressed and scrubbing his hair dry with a towel, Sam had showed up with a big bag of take out and a couple of familiar white and green paper cups.

"Coffee?" Dean asked hopefully. 

"Tea for me," Sam said, setting one cup near his laptop. 

He handed the other to Dean. It didn't smell like coffee. It smelled sweet and milky. He hadn't actually been expecting coffee. Sam had been treating him like you'd feed a pregnant Omega for as long as they'd been trying, and that meant he tried to keep Dean cut off from coffee. Of course, that just meant that Dean had been sneaking his coffee while at work. 

Dean shrugged and sipped. It was, indeed, milky, but also syrupy sweet. Dean set the cup down, not certain if he could stomach it. 

"What the hell is this?" he asked. 

"White chocolate cocoa, whole milk, whipped cream. Six hundred and forty calories in a cup. Drink up," Sam said. 

Right. How the hell were they going to fatten up the guy who didn't weight more than five pounds more than he had at eighteen, despite a life-time of bad for you food? The way he ate, he should weigh at least two hundred forty pounds or more. Instead, he hadn't even tipped one sixty on the doctor's scale. 

"Okay," Dean said and he grabbed the cup again. He gave the drink another try. It wasn't too bad, if you didn't think you were getting coffee. It went down easy, reminding Dean of melted ice cream. "You're serious about this fattening me up thing."

"I want to give you what you want, Dean," Sam said, unpacking the bag of takeout. There were multiple styrofoam boxes inside. "You. We, want a baby. The doctor says your best chance is gaining some weight. I've been doing some research while you were sleeping. Reading medical articles. I'm sure she's right. I guess Omega's reproductive systems are more likely to shut down in times of hardship and scarcity. You've had some hard..."

Sam couldn't seem to finish. Neither of them liked to think, not just about his dark times recently, but the years when they were growing up, the times when Dean went hungry so Sam could eat. Sam had been a bottomless pit when he was a young Alpha. They'd talked about this and Dean regretted nothing. He'd done what he had to do. 

"Hey. Getting too damn close to a chick flick moment here," Dean said, reaching for a styrofoam box at random. "I thought I was supposed to be the hormonal wreck, not you. What's this?" 

Sam got it together and he said, "There's a chicken and waffle place not too far from here. That's an omelet with bits of boneless fried chicken in it. I got you waffles too."

"Now you're talking," Dean said, grabbing for a plastic fork. 

 

***

Dean's five-thirty am alarm went off, first an irritating ping, ping, then switching over one of his favorite mullet rock hits. This morning's choice was Motorhead. The phone was shut off before Sam could do more than groan and pull the pillow over his face. 

He peeked out from under the pillow as he heard Dean moving around the room, pulling dresser drawers open, reaching into closets. Before long, he was dressed in his Carhartts, pulling on work boots over thick socks- the uniform of a hard working man. 

It was Monday, Sam realized, and he hadn't yet had the talk with Dean he'd decided they needed to have. He'd just been reading about it at the end of last week. Dean hadn't been putting on the weight despite several weeks of a pretty intense, high calorie regimen. Sam had consulted one of the professors at his college, an expert in Omega physiology. It was pretty clear. Dean was most likely burning off calories in an equal amount to what he was taking in. This was a discussion he'd never thought he'd have with his Omega. He wasn't that kind of Alpha, Dean wasn't that Omega. He never thought he'd be telling his Omega he couldn't work, at least not at the job of his choice. He had to though.

"Dean," Sam said, sitting up in bed. It was the start of the summer, the end of June, and it was already dawn outside even at five thirty. "What are you doing?"

"Getting ready for work," Dean said, like Sam was an idiot or a kid in preschool. "Like I do every Monday morning."

"About that," Sam said. "You can't keep doing that."

When they'd settled down into the house in Hastings, Dean had gone and found himself work in construction. Sam had tried to talk him into going back to school too, or even just plain not working. Dean had always protested and to Sam's chagrin he'd been right. They'd needed the money. Sam couldn't support them on his own and they were leaving the grifting and the scams behind. Sam had wanted to sell off one or more of the classic vehicles in the bunker garage, but in an uncharacteristic spate of honesty and ethics, Dean had argued that nothing at the bunker actually belonged to them. Furthermore, those cars might have enchantments or curses on them that weren't readily apparent. That meant they'd started their new life with almost nothing.

But now Sam had more than enough clients at the gym. He could support them both. It wasn't that he was one of those Alphas, traditional to a fault, kept their Omegas all but chained up in the kitchen. But even if they weren't trying to get Dean pregnant, Sam couldn't stomach the thought that his Omega was supporting him by back breaking physical labor. It wasn't just construction, but Dean was a general laborer for the most part, broken up by a little rough-in carpentry. In short, the hardest physical work you could get mostly.

"Can't keep doing what?"

"Working construction," Sam said, grabbing Dean by the wrist. "I'm not saying you have to give up working period, but you can't keep up with the hard, physical work like this."

"You want me to quit my job?"

"I want you to let me take care of you," Sam said. "You were the one who decided you'd stay home to take care of the baby."

"There's no baby to take care of, Sam," Dean said. "I'm not even pregnant yet."

"Not yet, but any time now," Sam said. "I know you hate those kind of Alphas, but sometimes I can't help it. It just kills me to see you breaking your back like this. I'm supposed to be the one..."

"It's okay, Sammy. I get it. You want to be the one that supports our family," Dean said. "But I gotta work and what else am I gonna do? It's all I'm good for. Working hard. I'm not like you. I can't just waltz on back to college or talk people into paying me seventy an hour to tell them how to exercise. There's just no job market for reformed monsters with only a GED."

They'd crashed on the shoals of Dean's rocky lack of self worth again, not an infrequent occurrence no matter how much Sam tried to build Dean up. Sam had thought things were getting better, that Dean understood he was more than the things he'd been molded into. Dean wasn't the tool, the weapon he'd been shaped to be, first by their father, then by the angels, then by the demons. Sam believed that Dean could do anything he wanted, that Dean was in fact, smarter than he was. But he also knew that a life time of saying this to Dean still couldn't make up for the way that their father and the world had ground Dean down, nor the wounds that lingered from their years hunting, some of them inflicted by Sam himself. 

Sam sat down on the edge of the mattress, pulling Dean after him, onto his lap. It was something Dean didn't tolerate very often, but Sam thought he needed it right now. Sam didn't play the Alpha card very often. Hardly ever, really. But Dean needed it now, Sam thought. 

He stroked Dean's neck, touching the place where a hundred years ago, Dean would have been wearing his collar. He felt the bumpy, rough spot of the scar he'd put onto Dean's neck to mark him as his own. Alphas and Omegas didn't really do that sort of thing any more. They wore rings, just like betas did, but theirs had been a particularly intense and traumatic mating. In a move that had been instinctual, Sam had bitten down hard on Dean's neck the first time his knot had been inflating in Dean's cunt. It had left a big scar on the side of Dean's neck that was unmistakeable to anyone who knew Dean was Omega. To make it up to Dean, Sam had gotten a tattoo on the same spot on his neck that said, "Dean's", but that didn't change the fact that there were times when Sam's inner Alpha, no matter how tight a leash he kept on the bastard, was just a possessive, demanding son of a bitch. 

"Dean, I just need to see you take it easy. I'm not saying you can't work. It's just that we have enough that you don't need to do that sort of work any more. You could do anything you wanted. We have enough money you don't have to work unless you want to. And don't make me have to tell you again that I don't want to hear you call yourself a monster. You aren't. You never were. You're my mate. My Dean. So beautiful. So perfect."

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean as tightly as he could and hid his face in the crook of Dean's neck, breathing in the deep, sweet scent of his mate. 

"Okay," Dean said after a long time. "Okay. But tell me how it is that you're the Alpha? You are such a girl. I'll tell 'em at the end of today. They really need me this morning. They're going to be short because Kirby's Omega is going into heat and Skinny Pete is still out with his back injury."

Even if Dean wasn't trying to get pregnant, Sam wouldn't want him to do this kind of work forever. It broke the body down. Skinny Pete wasn't the only worker Dean had mentioned who was out on worker's comp. There was another guy, Sam couldn't remember his name, who'd got put out of work for good when some of his discs more or less disintegrated and another guy had been mentioned who'd retired early with arthritis in all of his major joints. It was tough work and Dean was tough, but he shouldn't have to be, not like that. 

"Thank you," Sam said, pressing his lips to Dean in a quick kiss. They had to hurry. Sam led the six-thirty Pilates mat class at the gym and he wanted to talk with Nate, the gym's owner, about this idea he had for a Pilates for Golf class that might draw a few more people in, especially Alpha males who thought Pilates was for women and Omegas. Sam slapped Dean lightly on the ass, thought a few rebellious thoughts about playing hooky to stay in bed with his Omega. But then he dumped Dean off his lap. They had jobs now, they had people that counted on them to be there. They had a house and unbelievably enough, they had a mortgage. Then there was the payment on Dean's truck to think about, not to mention all the other expenses. As he pulled on the black knit pants and t-shirt that was his work uniform, he worried about how much the electricity bill would be this month, now that summer was starting. It had been double their normal during the summer months last year.

"So, your usual Monday schedule?" Dean asked, sitting down to pull the laces of his boots tight and give them a good double knot. 

"No, Mrs Kearney couldn't make her Tuesday time this week, so I said I could fit her in at four-thirty and then Nate asked if I could cover the six-thirty spin class."

"You even qualified for that?" Dean asked. 

"Not in the slightest," Sam admitted with a wry grin. "But Nate's been training me in his easiest routine and he thinks I can handle it. He's trying to talk me into getting certified in spin too."

And so it went, the normal morning routine of two now normal guys. 

 

***

Dean worked his normal day. They were roughing in the walls at the latest one of the spec houses his company was putting up. It was a new development, all the houses ended up looking alike and honestly, his part of the job was just like being in a factory, he thought, nail gun boards to other boards all day. He thought he could put up one of these places in his sleep by now. The neighborhood was steadily growing around them, like mushrooms. Big, beige mushrooms with unnecessarily complicated hip and valley roofs and patches of brick on the front facade. Big mushrooms with three car garages.

Dean couldn't imagine living in one of the places he built. It was bad enough that Sam had talked him into leaving the bunker and moving to Hastings, to a normal house. Well, normal enough house. It had once belonged to one of the men of letters and ripping up old carpet and pulling down ugly panelling had revealed keys of solomon and sigils all over. There seemed to be other, less visible wardings as well. That was the only reason he'd agreed to leave the bunker. That and the fact of Sam's unhappiness there. 

After quitting time, Dean drove his truck to the trailer that served as the on-site office for the construction company. He pulled up just in time to see the blond young woman who was office assistant stumble out with a few things in a cardboard box. She was spluttering and shouting at the door. 

"You're nothing but a bitch. A goddamn fired bitch when I tell Grandpa what you did," she shouted at the trailer. 

The screen door of the trailer opened and something was tossed out. Dean identified it as a stuffed animal, one of those cheap ones you won at a carnival booth. Then the manager stepped out. The guys on the crew all called her ScaryLou, but her name was Marylou. Dean respected her, as did most of the crew when it came down to it. She was fair, scarily competent at what she did and ran the company with an iron fist. If she was firing this office girl, no doubt there was good reason for it. 

"Damn straight he's gonna come down on me," Marylou said, arms crossed. "He's gonna want to know why the hell I didn't call the cops when I found you helping yourself to the petty cash. I told you, girl, you don't take advantage of family like that. The fact your grandpa owns this company got you in the door of my office, but you screw up, you get fired like everyone else."

The blond girl spluttered and Marylou continued, "You best just tell your grandpa work was harder than you thought and I won't say a word about the real reason I fired your thieving ass."

Eventually, her squawks died down to sniveling. She grabbed a hard hat from the box and whipped it at the trailer. Then she got into a sweet little red convertible, obviously bought for her by someone else and drove away.

Marylou turned her attention to him. Despite the fact that she was general manager of the whole construction company and she ran several large crews, she knew all of them by name. "What can I do for you, Dean?" she asked. 

"I just came to hand in my notice," he said. 

"You got a better offer? The good ones always do," she said. "It's hard to keep good hands. What are they paying? Maybe I can match it."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "My Alpha doesn't want me working manual labor any more. It's not like he's one of those traditional Alphas, tries to control everything his Omega does, but when he does put his foot down, it's really down. So I gotta find something that isn't in construction."

She screwed up her eyes, gave him a long, evaluating look. "Huh? Shows how much a Beta knows. I thought you were Alpha. You sure don't look Omega."

Dean squirmed. Before, he'd always been proud of that. He looked nothing like a typical Omega. He was too tall, too skinny, too muscular. Nothing soft about him. It was just awkward now that he was trying to a little weight on and look a little more like a proper Omega. Betas couldn't smell the difference, like an Alpha or an Omega could. They pretty much always went by appearance and behavior to tell who was Alpha and who was Omega.

"Yeah, I know," Dean admitted. "But this kind of work's not helping with that."

"You got another job lined up?" she asked.

"Nope. No clue what I'm going to do now."

"You know your way around a computer at all?" she asked after a moment. 

"More or less," Dean admitted. It wasn't like he was Sam, but he'd picked up things over the years. He could send emails. He'd learned to fix it himself when the damn things would freeze on porn sites and he had a few tricks he couldn't admit to anyone that he knew, like getting into security camera feeds. He wasn't sure how well he'd do on the usual things normal people used computers for, like spreadsheets. But how hard could it be?

"Seems I'm looking for a new office assistant. I want to get one hired and trained up before old man McPartland gets back from vacation and makes me hire another one of his grandkids."

"I'm not qualified for that kind of thing, Marylou," Dean said. "I never even graduated high school."

"You're not dumb and you're not lazy," Marylou said. "I can train you in almost anything, but I can't train dumb and lazy out of a person. Give it a try. You got to be better than some bimbo so dumb she thinks I won't notice money missing from the petty cash. You know construction. And I've seen you. Had my eye on you. You're better than a hammer jockey. The pay's not as much as on the crew, but it ain't a union position, so you won't be out union dues. It'll be about the same take home."

"I can give it a try," Dean said, thinking Sam would be pleased, even if he hated the idea of sitting on his ass all day, answering the phones or whatever the hell else an office assistant did.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Marylou said. "You don't have to dress office fancy, but clean jeans and a button down, in case you need to talk to the architects or suppliers. Keep your hard hat. I'll send you out to the job sites sometimes."

And just like that, Dean found himself with an office job. 

 

***

It was quitting construction work and taking a desk job that had finally done it for Dean, tipped that balance. Sam watched Dean pull off the t-shirt that he'd slept in and he could see the results of their hard work. It wasn't much, yet, just five pounds, maybe eight or so. You could hardly even call it love handles yet, or a belly, but there was already a softening to Dean's abdomen. The six pack he'd sported so many years was disappearing. His belly was still flat, but there was just enough of a layer of fat that the ripples of muscle were gone. Sam ignored his half mast erection. He wanted morning sex for sure, but they were going to have to hustle to get out of here on time this morning. 

Sam has showered after the last class he'd led yesterday, so he slipped on his black pants and gym t-shirt, then his running shoes. He tucked jeans and a fresh shirt into his backpack. He had training sessions from six-thirty through ten thirty, then a physiology class at eleven. Then he was hoping to get in a good couple hours at the library working on papers, before he had to be back at the gym for more training sessions. 

He hurried into the kitchen to pack their lunches. Dean was in the living room ironing a shirt for work. Funny seeing that. Sam would never have thought that he'd ever see Dean ironing, or even caring that his shirt was wrinkled. The Dean from their former life grabbed whatever shirt didn't have bloodstains or rips. Or whatever didn't smell like too many weeks packed in the trunk of the Impala or ectoplasm. 

"Hey, can I take the truck today?" Dean asked. "Marylou wants me to head out to a new site they're considering and it's a little rough for Baby. Country gravel roads, that sort of thing. Site's probably gonna be pretty muddy."

"Sure," Sam said. When they'd first moved to Hastings, Dean had taken the truck to his job everyday and Sam had driven the Impala around town but with his new job, Dean had taken his baby back. Sam didn't care much one way or another. To him, a car was a car. The truck had a slight advantage in head and leg room. 

In the kitchen, Sam worked quickly to pack lunches- for himself, salad with chicken breast, a yogurt for a snack. He watched himself pretty closely for his lunches at least. With the kind of meals he was putting in front of Dean, Sam found himself putting on a few pounds himself. It came off easily enough, but he had to work out that much harder. 

Dean's 'lunch' was actually three separate meals- an actual lunch and two big snacks. Along with a couple of turkey and avocado sandwiches and a bag of chips, to appease Dean's junk food tooth, Sam threw in cheese sticks, a baggie of the chocolate covered almonds that he'd found Dean would eat as easily as he used to eat peanut M&Ms, but that Sam liked to think were better for him, what with no candy coating and unnatural food dyes and colors. And there was a slice of pecan pie. There was always pie around now. Hastings had a good bakery, called Hoosier Daddy Pies, started by a recent transplant from Indiana and Sam bought a couple every week, different kinds mostly, but always pecan, because it was the highest calorie pie. 

Sam hadn't always understood what pie meant to Dean. It was home, to him. It was being cared for. It was sweetness in a life that had been mostly a pile of shit, honestly. Dean didn't have much else in life other than his car and the pleasures of eating. It wasn't until Dean had died, again, that Sam had realized just how much he'd loved Dean, how he would have done anything to save him, even though he'd thought he wouldn't. And if the way that Dean understood that love meant that Sam didn't forget the damn pie again, well, from now on, there would always be pie. 

Dean strolled into the kitchen. He was doing up his jeans, freshly pressed shirt over his arm. "Damn it, Sam," he said. "Your feeding plan's given me a freaking muffin top. Look at it."

It was a barely perceptible one. It was only created because Dean's jeans were a little tight for him now, not much. But there was definitely a fleshy bulge over the edge of the waistline where it cut into the thin layer of padding on Dean's belly. 

"Jesus," Sam whispered as he suddenly felt himself harden. It was just amazing, seeing Dean like that. He'd always been attracted to Dean, even at his skinniest, but this was. This was a certain level of hotness he'd never expected. Dean looked so very Omega. That was the only way Sam could describe it to himself. 

"Dean, come here," he said. He hadn't thought he was using the Alpha voice, but Dean dropped his shirt and walked over to Sam without a word. 

There wasn't time for this. This was stupid. They were going to be late, the both of them. Sam didn't care, not a bit. He couldn't stop himself from bending Dean over the kitchen table and reaching around to unbutton his jeans.

Dean was protesting even as he didn't move to stop Sam from pulling down his pants. "Gonna be late. So are you. Stop, Sam."

"You're going to be even later if you don't stop trying to wriggle away," Sam threatened. 

"Don't you dare knot me," Dean said, a kind of acquiescence. He braced himself against the table top as Sam slid into his warm, tight cunt without anything that resembled foreplay. As he thought, Dean was just as slick as if Sam had spent half an hour warming him up. 

Sam rutted into Dean fast and hard, driving himself and Dean to orgasm. He'd started going for a reach around, but ended up with his hands rubbing Dean's belly, loving how soft it had gotten. It jiggled just slightly with each thrust. Despite the lack of stimulation to his cock, Dean started moaning and meeting Sam's each thrust. 

"Getting off on me being a fatty now, aren't you, fucker?" Dean said. Sam didn't hold it against him. Something about a quickie brought out Dean's foul mouth. "Gonna fill up my belly with your come?"

"You know I am, Omega," Sam said, then he got down to the business of really fucking Dean, loving the way Dean just seemed softer now, rounder. It wasn't much. No one would look at Dean and think he was even chubby, not yet, but compared to the way he had been, it was a difference of night and day. 

"Do it. Love this, Sammy," Dean said, making Sam realize that if Dean could talk so easily, he wasn't doing it right. Sam doubled his efforts, grabbing tight around Dean's middle, loving how his fingers sank in now, just a little. 

"Want to do this. Want to get fat for you," Dean admitted. 

That was when Sam lost it. He felt his balls draw up tight, all his muscles tense. He could feel himself getting harder, the sign of his knot starting to inflate. He groaned and whited out with the pleasure. He kept it together enough to pull out once he started to come, so that only some of his come ended up in Dean's pussy. The rest painted Dean's ass and thighs, pulses of come continuing for several seconds until his body caught up with the fact that his incipient knot wasn't wrapped tightly in his mate. Instead of fully inflating, his knot went down as the rest of his cock softened. It took only a moment for Sam to realize he'd left Dean hanging. He finally gave Dean that reach around and it was just a few moments of fisting Dean's cock before his mate was crying out his completion too, covering Sam's hand with come. 

They both chuckled slightly at the same time. Then Sam looked up at the clock on the microwave. Only ten minutes had passed. Talk about a quickie. They could still get to work on time if they hustled and ate breakfast on the run. 

"Don't you dare eat breakfast in Baby," Dean threatened, as if he could read Sam's mind. 

"I'll grab it between clients. I won't eat in your precious car. " Sam said, thinking of how Mark Ferguson was always about five to ten minutes late, no matter what. He'd see his first client then grab some food in the interval allowed by Mark's late arrival. "I swear, you love that car more than me."

"It's a very different kind of love," Dean said as he reached into one of the drawer for a clean wash cloth. He dampened it in the sink and started to reach behind, to clean up Sam's come.

"No," Sam said, warningly. "I want you to wear me today. So even the Betas can smell you're mine."

"Caveman," Dean said, but it was said fondly as he tossed the wet cloth to Sam. Dean pulled up his shorts and jean, with a slight grimace, but no other complaint. 

Sam wiped his cock off and tucked himself back together. Nothing better than morning sex, he thought as he got himself together. 

***

 

They were out in the backyard. It was the middle of the fall, but it was still warm late this year and it was still eighty-five at seven in the evening, even though it was October and the leaves were kind of brown and crunchy. That was one of the good things about their little house in Hastings- they had a big, private back yard, a whole acre all their own, with trees all around the edges for the illusion that they weren't at the edge of town and not out in the country. Thankfully, most of the trees were evergreen, pines and the like, so they had their privacy year round. 

Not that they were the kind of guys to have yard furniture, but Dean had found the loungers for cheap at a garage sale one day and hauled them home. They were wide, long and solid. Dean had thought they'd just use them with the old, grubby cushions, but one day a big box had arrived. Sam had made the effort to order bright, new, custom cushions for the things. Now, they made a good spot for a nap in the shade. No napping was going on right now though. 

Sam was on his back and Dean rode on top of him, Sam's knot was wedged firmly inside him. Sam wasn't trying to pull his usual toppy Alpha bullshit. Not that Dean didn't like that most of the time. But this was awesome. Sam had let him ride at his own, slow pace. Dean had closed his eyes and just let his body take over, seeking after the sensations that felt best, like how when he canted his hips back just so, the head of Sam's cock would stroke a certain spot inside of Dean that was just toe curling, especially when he'd been allowed a long, slow build. He'd eventually come with a big spurt of slick that had drenched Sam's flat, muscular belly. Then later when Sam had popped his knot and Dean could hardly move for how tight their tie was this time, Sam had rubbed Dean's soft, round belly, sometimes even kneading it, looking at it and Dean with an almost worshipful look in his eyes. 

Dean was self conscious about that belly. He'd never had a body like this all his life. His dad had set him to hard training and short rations as soon as Dean's teenage years had hit, the only praise he got, grudgingly given, for how much like an Alpha Dean could keep his body. Dean understood. There was no way you could fight supernatural sons of bitches with a case of the pudge. Dean had needed his hard muscles and sleek body. Now he didn't. With the way it made Sam into a wild man, Dean could get into it a little bit. He didn't mind the weight so much when Sam pretty much ripped his clothes off as soon as he walked in the door every night. 

He made a micro adjustment of his hips and squeezed a little. Sam huffed and squirmed under Dean. He grabbed at Dean's bulge. Warmth flooded Dean's cunt. Sam was having an aftershock come, not a full blown second orgasm, but Alphas kept coming so long as they were tied into their Omegas and Sam would probably would have six or seven of these aftershocks for the hour or longer they were tied together, most in the first half of that time. Then came a long time waiting for the knot to subside. 

"Oh, God," Sam said when he could talk again. "You're gonna kill me. I thought I'd had the last one of those. You're milking the come out of me. Greedy little bitch."

"For that? Always."

Sam slapped him playfully on the ass. "Sassy too. Gonna have to spank it out of you."

"Just you try it," Dean said. "I might be your Omega but I can still kick your ass."

"Or I could just plow yours," Sam said. "Seriously, your ass is amazing these days. It should be criminal."

Dean's ass had gotten bigger too. Not as noticeable as his belly, but he'd had to buy new jeans now. When it was just his belly expanding, he'd sort of slung his jeans lower, under it. But that didn't work any more. Dean hadn't cared. Jeans were cheap but Sam's happiness was precious to him, beyond price. It wasn't too long ago, his priorities were all screwed up. He'd put Sam's safety over all else and he'd just succeeded in making Sam miserable and angry, especially considering that Sam could take care of his own damn self. 

"You're thinking too hard again," Sam said, as if he was able to read what Dean was thinking in his eyes. "The past is over. Nothing that happened then can hurt us any more."

"I was..."

"You're not now," Sam said. "Just my beloved mate. Fresh start, new life, remember? Everything between us is forgiven and the rest of the world can pound sand."

"Yeah," Dean said, remembering why he'd fallen in love with his mate. "Hey, I seem to remember you luring me out here with promises of pie."

"I did, didn't I?" 

"You did," Dean accused. He wriggled his ass, grinding down on Sam's knot and squeezing in way that would get him squirming at the least. It didn't. It triggered one last, weak aftershock orgasm in Sam who grabbed Dean's hips so hard he was sure he'd be sporting bruises tomorrow and slammed his hips up.

"Damn!" Sam cried out. "Love you. Love seeing you like that. Seeing your belly jiggle when I fuck you."

Much later, as Sam was slowly deflating, but not so much that he could slide out, there really was pie. Sam had brought pecan pie out with a big scoop of ice cream on the top. Sam had kind of slid up the lounger so he was partially sitting up, Dean still riding his hips. The pie had gotten all soggy with the melting vanilla ice cream, but Sam had just stirred it all up, breaking the pie up into chunks, so the result was kind of a pecan pie milk shake. Sam fed it to him in big spoonfuls until Dean couldn't eat another bite.

"That's what I like to see," Sam said. "My Omega stuffed full of pie. And my come."

***

It was January. They were back at the fertility specialist. Things had gotten worse since their plan to feed up Dean had been successful. Dean had put on the twenty pounds, maybe even a bit more, since they'd last seen the doctor, but he hadn't had a heat since just after they'd seen her. Dean had had one about month after the appointment, but hadn't caught pregnant then either. 

Dean should have gone through two heats since then, minimum, but there'd been nothing, even thought he'd gotten pleasingly plump. The doctor had frowned, poked and prodded Dean a bit, then made him go pee in a cup and taken some blood for her tests. Dean had been that silent worried he got when it was truly serious, so Sam knew he was scared. Sam had stood at Dean's shoulder and held his hand, touched his shoulder reassuringly. 

The doctor finally returned to the little exam room. "So, gentleman. I found the reason for Dean's lack of heats. The most common and logical one and I'm surprised it didn't occur to you before."

Sam tried to run the possible reason for no heats in an Omega through his mind and got nothing that would apply to Dean. 

"Congratulations. You're going to be parents," the doctor said, smiling finally. "I knew it'd be as simple as putting a little weight on Dean. I'd like to run an ultrasound to determine fetal age and a few other tests."

"But I never went into heat, just that one a month after our last appointment and I didn't get knocked up then for sure."

"Omegas get pregnant during pre-heat all the time," the doctor said. "The heat never comes on fully because you're already pregnant. Was there a time where it seemed that Sam just couldn't keep his hands off you?"

"You mean other than the whole last six months?" Dean asked. 

"A lot of couples in your situation, where the Omega is underweight, find that their sex life is invigorated as the Omega reaches a more appropriate weight. This is normal. Now, that ultrasound."

They soon had Dean's belly covered in that jelly stuff and were running one of those wand things over what Sam had to recognize now as a little baby belly. He'd thought it was just Dean getting an adorable potbelly, but it was their baby instead. The screen was pointed towards them and it was covered with a black and white blobby picture, but as the doctor point out things like heads, it slowly resolved itself into what could only be a baby. One with a massive head and tiny body, but that was apparently normal. This baby was very, very normal and healthy according to the doctor. 

"Twelve weeks gestational age. You're through the first trimester and without even a complaint."

Sam did the math in his head and said, "October."

They'd had a lot of sex that month, but there was one night that stood out in Sam's mind- out on the patio and Dean had just been amazing. The only time he'd come more in a single night had been during Dean's heats. 

"Yeah, for sure," Dean said, knowing exactly what night Sam meant. "We did it, Sam. It's. That's."

"Our baby," Sam said, unable to wipe the grin off his face. "You're going to be a mommy."

"Well we've got all the measurements we need for now. Let's get you cleaned up and you can get dressed," the doctor said. "Then I'll meet with you in my office and we can discuss follow up appointments and that kind of thing."

After getting the jelly cleaned off Dean's rounded stomach, she left them alone. Sam laid his right hand over Dean's bare belly. Right now, his hand covered most of the swell. Their child was under his hand, the one they'd been yearning for so long. 

"You know, I'm going to have to keep you fed up," Sam said. "To keep up your strength and to grow our baby."

"You think pie is good for growing a baby?"

"Probably not," Sam said. But because he could deny his Omega nothing, he added, "But I'm sure we can work some in as part of your healthy diet."


End file.
